


The Dark Feather

by BellarmyBlake



Series: It's Enough [48]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, captain!emma, deckhand!hook, the au to the au ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4700696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellarmyBlake/pseuds/BellarmyBlake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: <i>Emma is a pirate captain and she takes the Jolly Roger from Blackbeard along with its crew and Killian is the deckhand from the finale and are falling for each other and he doesn't know how to act around her and it's funny </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dark Feather

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my sideblog [cssmut](http://ccsmut.tumblr.com), but it's not smut. Not yet anyway. Enjoy!

Emma smirked as Blackbeard toppled overboard, his red coat flapping pathetically behind him. She turned to the men assembled on deck - both her crew and Blackbeard’s - and relished in the stunned looks she received left and right.

She sheathed her sword. “The ship is ours, gentlemen.”

Her crew cheered, throwing up their hands and chanting her name. The defeated crew let their weapons clatter onto the deck. She smirked as she beckoned over her Lieutenant. Red smirked. “A perfect defeat, Captain.”

“Thank you, Red.” Emma looked over the cheering crowd. “Red, I have some good news.” She clapped her hand on her shoulder with a smile. “Effective immediately, I name you Captain of the Dark Feather.”

Red’s jaw drops. “Emma, are you - ?”

“Of all the men and woman on the Feather, I trust you above all. The Jolly Roger is a fine ship and I intend to make her flagship. You will Captain the Black Feather.” Emma smirked. “Congratulations,  _Captain_.”

Red laughed, and Emma knew her best friend would’ve hugged her, if they had been alone. But Emma had a reputation to uphold. “But for now, Miss Red. Gather up the men of this ship. I want to talk to them.”

“Yes, Captain!”

Ten minutes later, the defeated crew were gathered up on deck, while she was situated by the helm. “You fought valiantly, and were each of you brave. I admire that.” She looked each of them in the eye. “I am not a cruel woman. I will not blame the crew for the mistakes of their previous Captain. Therefore I offer each and everyone of you a place among my crew. You will be treated well. Should you wish to recline my offer, you may do so. They who wish to leave, may do so, the next time we make port. You have till dawn to decide.”

She stepped down, and made her way to the Captain’s cabin, eager to find out what treasures Blackbeard had hidden in the depths of his ship.

A surprise awaited her in the cabin however.

When she opened the door, a sword was pointed at her throat. A young, trembling sailor was standing in front of her, his blue eyes big with fear. Emma smirked. “Hello, lad.” she said, moving forward. The sailor stepped back quickly. “Were you not at my speech just now?” Unconcerned, she moved to the desk, grabbing the decanter of rum. From the corner of her eyes, she watched him move around. His breath was going fast, his shoulders moving up and down quicker than had to be healthy. “I haven’t seen you fight this morning.”

“N-no.” he stammered.

“Can’t fight? Or won’t?” She grinned wolfishly. “Are you one of those pacified pirates?”

“I’m a deckhand.” the man blurted out, his cheeks turning bright red.

Emma chuckled. “So you  _can’t_  fight?”

It was silent for a long time as Emma sipped her rum and looked intensely at the man (honestly, she could see he was a man but he was acting like such a  _boy_ ). He seemed to struggle with himself, his sword trembling in his grip, and Emma felt a twinge of pity for the man.

“Oh, lower your sword, sailor. You’ll never take me in a fight, and I won’t harm you. If you’d come on deck as ordered, you’d have known that.”

The man seemed to deflate completely, dropping his sword with a miserable sigh and closing his eyes. “Apologies, m’lady.”

“That’s  _Captain_  for you, sailor.”

He immediately stumbled over himself to correct himself. “Yes, Captain, apologies, Captain.”

Emma sized him up, wondering what in the hell had brought this flustered idiot into piracy. He was young, inexperienced in…well,  _everything_. He looked pretty enough, though. His hair was long, gathered in a ponytail, but a few locks of hair escaped on his forehead; it makes him look cute. And his eyes were bright blue, beautiful really. Yes, he was easy on the eyes. “So what’s your name, sailor?”

“Killian Jones, C-captain.”

Emma sucked her lower lip between her teeth, letting her eyes rake up his body. “So, Deckhand Jones…” she said. He turned even more scarlet. “Will you pledge allegiance to me, or go ashore when we next make port?”

Deckhand Jones looked taken aback by this question. “I - I…you’re not going to kill me?”

“Why would I want to kill you?”

“I was Blackbeard’s crew. You…you are Captain Swan. You are the most feared pirate to ever set sails. You…don’t spare your conquered crew.”

Emma laughed. “Who’s been spreading those lies? Blackbeard, I suppose?” When Jones nods, she chuckles. “He’s always been bitter that I defeated him twice before. He doesn’t like being defeated by a woman. Not many men do.” She pushes off the desk, stepping closer to him, relishing in the fumbling he did to step away from her. “Do you mind being defeated by a woman?”

“Ehm - no, not really. If she’s better than myself, she deserves it. I guess.”

Emma chuckled, then turned her back on him. “Get back on deck, Mr Jones. I shall expect your decision in the morning.”

She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing when Jones tripped over his own feet to get to the door quickly. Emma took another swig of rum, and grinned. She really hoped he would stay, because messing with him would prove excellent entertainment. Who knew, maybe she could draw an actual pirate out of him.

She wasn’t exactly sure why she was so interested in this stumbling, fumbling, barely grown up boy, but she was and she was eager to find out more about him.

This could be fun.


	2. The Dark Feather 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days after Killian and Emma met for the first meet, events start to unfurl around them. The strange connection between them starts to boil to the surface - smut ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I took too long updating this, but it's longer than usual and it has _smut_ so I hope you can forgive me!

He stayed.

He said it was because he didn’t want to brave the big, scary world out there (he’d waved his hand at the harbour vaguely), but she’d seen the spark of interest in his eyes that night, the same one she felt. She knew he was staying because of that.

Because this was something they were both very much interested in.

He remained deckhand for now, but she could see him climbing the ladder up to lieutenant if he behaved and learned to let loose a little. For now, he was too skittish, and she intended to do something about that.

Ten days into the Jolly’s first journey under Captain Swan’s command, Emma was stood upon the high deck, looking out over the scurry of men on the deck below. She’d had to bring over quite a few people from the Feather to complete the crew – lots of men had decided to leave (one had spat at her and said he’d never serve under a _woman_ , so she’d put her sword through him, and after that, none of the other men leaving said a word about her sex – though probably more for fear than anything else), but those who stayed had already proven themselves loyal, and had no qualms of serving under a woman. Now both the Jolly and the Feather were a little short on sailors, but she was pretty confident she could find some more in Arendelle. Those men were used to be led by a woman, their ruler being a powerful, but just, Queen.

Maybe she’d be able to see one of her oldest friends, Kristoff, again. That’d be nice.

Emma shook her head to lose the images of a childhood long past, and smiled. “Mr Jones!” she said loudly, and the deckhand tripped over his own feet while carrying two buckets of water, splashing most of the contents onto the deck. His face turned beet red, and he spun on his heel to look up at her, his hand going up to scratch behind his ear in a nervous tick. “Come up here!”

“Aye, Captain!” He quickly placed the buckets in front of the sailors mopping the deck and hurried over to her. “Yes, Captain?”

“You don’t know how to swordfight, do you?”

“No, Captain.”

“Draw you sword, Mr Jones.” Emma said, drawing her own and taking a few steps back. “Go on.”

He drew, his hand unsteady, his brows furrowed. Emma shook her head, chuckling lightly. “What?” he said, indignantly.

She put her sword down again, and moved over to him, taking his sword hand. “You’re holding it all wrong.” She repositioned his hand, making sure her hand was wrapped tightly around his, and his hand was positioned properly on the hilt. She felt his body seize up against hers for a moment. “Once we get you trained up a bit, you’ll be able to do it without thinking.” She guided him through a slow swish of the sword. “Muscle memory.”

“You would be willing to train me?” He sounded surprised and he turned his head to look at her (bringing their faces uncomfortably close together).

“No man who serves under me will be defenceless.” Emma said simply.

He smiled at her from over his shoulder, and then allowed her to move him through the motions. They practiced at it for the better part of the day, and not until he was clutching his side and sweating like a pig in distress, did she let him off the hook. “Not bad, Mr Jones.” she said, handing him her flask of rum.

“Thank you, Captain.” he gasped, gratefully accepting the flask and taking a swig. He coughed, but worked it down all the same. “Rum.” he said, with a slight tone of distaste in his voice.

“Don’t like it?”

Killian shook his head, his cheeks tingeing pink again. “Not really. It was what brought my father to his end, so I’ve always carefully avoided it.”

Emma nodded slowly, screwing the flask shut and stashing it beneath her leather coat. “I see. Well, I’m sure we can find some goat’s milk aboard this ship to suit your fancy.” She winked, and Killian even smiled a little, through his embarrassment. Emma cocked her head to look at him for a moment, really studying him. He looked a bit pale, and he was thinner than she remembered. “Have you been eating, Mr Jones?”

His face turned a darker shade of red. “Well...”

Emma shook her head. “Why?”

“Well, I’ve always been busy at mealtimes. You know, cleaning, and all that. And the food’s always gone before I get there.”

 Emma clacked her tongue. “There’s a duty roster on my ship, Mr Jones. You are expected to follow it.” He scratched behind his ear sheepishly, his face a beacon of embarrassment and sadness. Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop looking like I just kicked a puppy and come with me.” She swept down the stairs and into the hull of the ship, Killian stumbling behind her. First stop, galley, where she ordered the cook to whip up an early lunch for herself and Mr Jones. Killian stood a few steps behind her, and when she looked over at him, he was looking down at the ground, a scared look on his face. “You’re not getting punished, Mr Jones.” She said patiently. “I’m just force-feeding you.” A chuckle forced its way out of his throat before he could swallow it.

The cook made the lunch in five minutes, handing them some bread and plate of mashed potatoes and dried tomatoes. “Enjoy your meal, Cap’n. Mr Jones.”

Killian looked up, surprised at the way the cook addressed him, but before he could say anything, Emma yanked him along to her quarters. “He called me...” Killian stuttered, stumbling over the threshold to her cabin.

“Well, what did they call you before?” Emma asked, placing the food on her small table and cleaning out one of her chairs so he could sit. He shuffled his feet a little, but at her stern look, he sat down anyway.

“Mostly they just called me ‘deckhand’.” he said, picking up his cutlery and digging into his potatoes.

Emma frowned at that. She’d known Blackbeard held no respect for those he thought beneath him, but even the crew? “It sounds to me like you didn’t have the best of times here. Why did you stay?”

Killian’s fork clattered to his plate with a force that made her startle. She looked into his eyes, and could swear she saw a hint of tears. “No offense, Captain, but I don’t think we are quite so familiar that I have to share that tale with you.” His tone was curt, snappish.

And Emma understood immediately. Saw the pain in his eyes, felt the twinge of it in her own heart. “Sorry.” she said, backing off and focusing on her own food. For a moment, they just sat in silence, and then Killian sighed, running his hand through his already unruly hair.

“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that.” His eyes were trained on his plate, completely refusing to look up at her. “It’s just...painful. And I’m not ready to relive it.”

“I understand.” Emma said softly. For a moment, she felt something warm, and small, and _alive_ rest against her chest, but she shook it off. Now was not the time for those scars to be ripped open again.

Killian looked up, his blue eyes searching hers. “You do, don’t you?” His cheeks turned pink immediately after that, and he looked down again, concentrating on his food. Emma followed his lead. “I’ve been meaning to thank you,” he said abruptly, changing the subject faster than she could draw her sword, “for the lessons you’re willing to give me. I enjoyed it very much.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile. “Good.” she said.

He smiled back.

Emma felt the tension between them again, the same tension she’d felt that very first day, and it was doing things to her stomach. The feelings made her slightly giddy. “Have you ever heard of Sailor’s Bluff?” she said, shoving her plate aside and leaning over the table in obvious challenge.

He swallowed the last of his meal and smiled sheepishly. “No, I must say I haven’t.”

“Good. I’ll teach you. Clear the table, please.” Emma said cheerfully, taking out two cups and two sets of dice.

**\---CS---**

Emma only realized they’d been playing for the better part of the day when Mr Smee came down and asked for orders, as there was a big storm coming. She wasn’t sure who blushed harder, Killian or herself. She’d planned on maybe two or three games before going back upstairs to run the ship, but his company was pleasant. The time had flown by without them noticing. “Alright Mr Smee. I’m on my way. Mr Jones...” she turned to Killian, who bit his lip, his eyes fixed on her. “It was a pleasure. But now we must get back to work.”

“Aye, Captain.” he said.

Emma and Killian went back up to deck, and Emma immediately climbed into the rigging to get a better look at the storm coming in from behind. It looked pretty nasty. The clouds were dark, an ominous greenish glow surrounding it, and there were periodic flashes of lightning ricochetting across the sky.

"Get the ship ready for some heavy weather, boys!" she shouted, jumping down and striding towards the helm.

Aye, Captain!" the crew shouted, and after that the ship was bustling with activity. Emma turned the ship with its stern towards the wind. The sails immediately went tight, catching the wind. The ship gained in speed, but they weren't fast enough to outrun the storm.

It wasn’t pretty, _at all._ Waves crashed into the Jolly from all sides. Water spilled onto the deck, knocking over crewmen left, right and centre. “Hold on tight, lads! Someone keep an eye on the Feather!” Emma barked.

Killian came running instantly, dripping from head to toe (she’d seen him being engulfed by a rather vicious wave just minutes earlier), and he leaned over the railing, squinting against the heavy rainfall, to check up on the ship trailing behind them. “She’s taking some heavy blows, Captain, but looks fine otherwise!” he yelled over the howling wind.

Emma nodded, yanking the helm to bring it back to its proper position. “Thank you, Ki-KILLIAN!” Emma yelled, for Killian’s feet, unsteady because of his attempts to see the Dark Feather, had slipped out from underneath him on the wet, slippery deck. It would’ve been a comical sight to see, him trying to keep his footing by flailing his arms like an idiot, had it not been for the fact that it did not help. With a final shout, he went overboard. Emma yelled out, letting go of the helm in her shock. “MAN OVERBOARD!” she screamed. “Mr. Smee, take the helm!”

She didn’t even look if the man had followed her orders; she just ran to the spot where Killian had just been moments ago, yanking a rope loose from its knot. “Collins, McGimmy, to me!” she yelled, and the two strongest, buffest men came running. She was in the process of tying the rope around her waist when they joined her. “I’m going in.” she explained, and immediately was flooded with loud protestations. “I’m going!” she yelled, shutting them up. She pushed the other end of the rope into their hands and climbed upon the railing. “When you feel me tug three times like this – ” She demonstrated, “ – you yank me back up as hard as you can. Hopefully, I’ll have an extra man’s worth of weight with me. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain!” they both said, gripping the rope tightly.

The rest of the crew slowly realized what she was about to do, but there was no time for them to do anything other than shout “Captain!” before she dove headfirst into the water.

It was _freezing_ cold. It stabbed at her like a million knifes plunging into her skin, but she paid no heed. Even though the salt stung her eyes, she did not close them. Killian was out there. She broke the surface again and was immediately surprised by a large wave, pulling her under again. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at her own stupidity, she quickly counted the waves as they rolled over her, then broke the surface between two of them. Now she knew the frequency, she could adjust to waves by kicking. “ _Killian_!” she shouted, spinning around on the spot. “ _Killian!!_ ” If the situation hadn’t demanded every bit of her attention, she would’ve noticed the desperation in her voice. But there was no time for things like that. The only thing on her mind right now was Killian, and how he was likely drowning.

Glancing over to both her ships, she noticed that none of her crew were watching her. Even Collins and McGimmy were busier with keeping the rope steady than to watch her progress.

_Good_.

She took a deep breath and went under once more. Closing her eyes, she drew in on herself, searching for the ball of light inside her. She knew it must be there, even though she hadn’t touched it for many years. It would never go away, no matter how much she tried to pretend it wasn’t there anymore. This was a good thing now.

Something flickered inside her, and she smiled, knowing she’d found the ball. Her body simmered with the power of it. Opening her eyes, she raised her hands to either side of her, and focused, calling upon the light, drawing from it. It was physically obvious she hadn’t used her magic for a while. It hurt to use it, her body not used to the sensation of magic anymore. But she gritted her teeth and pushed through it, determined to use her magic for good for once.

Two flashes of light suddenly burst from her palms, spreading out through the water like waves themselves, unhindered by the movement of the water. She glanced around quickly, desperately.

And then she saw it.

A dark shape, illuminated by her light, floating just below the surface not 10 feet from her.

She broke the surface for a quick breath and then swam like mad towards him, suddenly unhindered by waves or wind. Within moments, she had grabbed him and dragged him to the surface. One arm wrapped securely around his chest, and the other reached for the rope. She yanked it three times, and immediately she felt herself being lurched back to the Jolly.

She and Killian flew through the air the last few feet, and landed with two hard, wet thuds onto the deck. She coughed slightly, having swallowed more water than she’d thought. The crew descended upon her. “Captain!” “Captain, are you alright?”

“Fine!” she gasped.

She was not, in fact, fine, but she couldn’t very well tell these people, for more reasons than one.

Emma moved to Killian, who was lying, quite still, on his back. Her heart was beating erratically, fear coursing through every pore in her body. "Killian?" she said, her voice croaky with fear and salt water. "Killian, can you hear me?" Her hand flew to his neck to find his pulse point. She pressed hard into the skin, searching desperately.

"Captain..." someone said, close to her ear.

"Quiet!" she snapped.

"Captain, he's gone!"

Emma rounded on the man, who immediately had the decency to look scared. " _I'm_ Captain Swan of the Jolly Roger, last time I checked, Mr Miels, _not_ you. So I'll thank you to shut the _fuck_ up." She turned back to Killian. She had yet to find a pulse point. She moved to his chest instead, pressing her ear down on it. He wasn't breathing, but she was pretty sure she could hear a faint heartbeat. Or was she imagining it?

Scared that emotions were clouding her sense, she again searched for a pulse point, on his wrist this time.

_There_.

It was faint and slow, but it was _there_. He was still _alive_.

"Come on, Killian." she whispered, sitting up and slapping his face. "Wake up!" When he didn't respond, she rolled him on his side and started to slap him on his back. That didn't work either.

Growling in frustration, she laid him down on his back and started beating his chest with her fist. If his heart was trying to give up, she would die before she'd let it. "Wake _up_ , damn you!" After a moment, she realized that this wasn't working either.

Then what the hell was wrong?

She coughed and spit out some water, and simultaneously, it came to her. _Of course_. Water. He probably had water in his lungs, which is why he wasn't breathing. She immediately moved to his head, pinching his nose and opening his mouth. She took a deep breath, lowering her lips to his. She was going to blow new life into him, if it killed her.

"Killian, come back to me." she whispered, before placing her lips on his and blowing.

Two breaths was all it took. He suddenly jerked beneath her, coughing up what looked like the entire ocean worth of water, and he rolled on his side to spit it out. Emma took a deep, relieved breath, leaning forward to rest her face in her hands for a moment.

"What the bloody hell - " Killian muttered, rolling onto his back again. He blinked. "Swan?"

"You nearly drowned." Emma said, sitting up to check on him. Besides some shivers and a cough he probably would have to deal with for a few days, he seemed to be fine. "Next time you feel the need to drink the whole sea, please give us a head's up, alright?" she joked half-heartedly.

Killian chuckled, sitting up. Then he saw how wet she was, and took note of the rope tied around her waist, and his eyes widened. "Did you jump in after me?" he asked, incredulous. She only nodded, and he gaped, dumbstruck.

"Mr. Murdoch, would you please escort Mr. Jones here to my quarters?" Emma said, before Killian had recovered his voice. Murdoch immediately picked Killian from the ground and half-carrying, half-dragging him to the quarters. Emma stood, looking around at the ship. The storm had let up (bloody perfect timing, that was), and she could fully appreciate the damage it had done. Several cannons had broken lose and were lying all over the place, and several ropes had sprang loose. She would hate to see the damage done to the outside of the Jolly. "Alright. Signal the Feather to drop the anchor, and then drop the Jolly's. Take stock of all the damages and fix whatever you can." When nobody went to work immediately, she lost her patience. " _Now_ , you pathetic bilge rats!" The men scurried to do as ordered, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. "Doctor Whale?" she called out.

The blonde haired man hurried forward, looking harassed. "Yes, Captain?"

"You will accompany me to check up on Mr. Jones." Whale nodded and followed her to her cabin, where Killian was already positioned on her bed. He tried to get up when she entered, but one stern look from her dissuaded him from doing so. "Go ahead, Doctor." she said, setting one of the upturned chairs back on its legs and sitting down in it.

Whale went to work on Killian, checking his heartbeat, his breathing and many more things. All the while, Killian didn't speak a word, and didn't look at her or Whale. Emma just stared intently at the Doctor. "He seems okay, Captain. His breathing is raspy, but that's to be expected after that swim he took. I _think_ he has a cold coming so he needs to be out of these wet clothes and into something warm immediately." He turned to look at Emma with a stern look. Emma, who wasn't used to that look coming from anyone but herself, frowned. "As should you, Captain."

"I didn't nearly drown. I'll dry myself off in a moment. Just make sure he's alright." Emma said dismissively.

Whale shook his head, but conceded. "Aye-aye, Captain." he said with a sigh. "He's going to be fine." He moved to Emma next, who took the examination with a lot of grumbling and with none of the dignity and patience Killian had shown (she could take care of herself, _damn it_ ).

"Warm clothes, and the moment we can get a fire started again, you each need to take a warm bath." Whale said, before closing the door on them and leaving them alone in the cabin.

They stayed silent for a moment, Emma looking at Killian, and him staring straight back. There was something swirling behind those big blue orbs of his, something she hadn't seen very often. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was constantly keeping himself at bay. "We should probably change." Emma said, at last.

He nodded. She grabbed some of her winter clothes and placed them on the table, before diving deeper into the closet and finding some men's clothes that were definitely not hers. Probably Blackbeard's. Well, it was all they had, so he'd just have to suck it up. She also grabbed two animal skins to dry themselves off with. They looked at each other for a moment, and then turned their backs to each other simultaneously.

They dried and dressed in silence. It was not the comfortable silence she had shared with him after one of their card games earlier today. No, this one was loaded with unspoken words, and she could feel there was something brewing underneath his calm exterior. She wondered how long it would take him to speak his mind.

When she was dressed, she turned, only to find his upper body still unclothed. She should've turned away. That would've been the decent, rational thing to do. But the planes of his back, the muscles stretching and flexing as he moved, and the skin were distracting her completely. There were scars scattered all over his back, and her curiosity was peaked immediately. She felt an incredible urge to run her fingers over those scars while he told the stories that belonged to them. Without realizing, she took a few steps forward, and the sounds of her footfall made Killian turn around quite suddenly. Emma froze.

For a moment, it was silent. Then he said, “Bad form, Swan, spying on a man when he is undressed.” There was a little wink, and if not for that, she would’ve thought he’d berated her. His voice was so deep and grave, you’d think he was angry at her.

“Sorry. I thought you were done.”

Killian nodded, and turned back around, finishing with the laces of his pants and pulling a shirt over his head. The tension was palpable. The air around them was frosty, and Emma wanted to say something, _anything_ to get this horrible feeling out of this cabin. But when she opened her mouth to say something, he began to speak. “How could you do that, Swan?” he said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. Emma blinked, not sure what he meant. He turned around to look her straight in the face, and he did so without blushing or generally acting like an idiot. He stood his ground. And he looked pissed. “Why the bloody hell did you jump in after me? Have you gone _completely_ insane?!”

Emma gaped at him, because _surely_ he wasn’t angry at her for saving his damn life? “Excuse me?” she said.

“You’re the Captain of this vessel! You can’t just jump into a fucking maelstrom to save a lowly deckhand!” he said, volume rising with every word.

“Excuse you, I think I can sort out for myself what I can and cannot do on _my_ ship!” Emma yelled back. How _dared_ he? The fucking insolent little prick! Was this what she got for saving his life? “Because as you said just now, I _am_ the Captain!”

“You can’t bloody well risk your life for me!” Killian bellowed, and Emma felt the urge to step back. She had never seen him like this. Gone was the shy deckhand and in his place was a scary, _angry_ pirate who looked ready to kill. It was kind of freaking her out. But she stood her ground, because she was Captain Swan, for God’s sake. She wasn’t scared of anybody, and certainly not of Killian.

“I can and I _have_! You’re _welcome_ , by the way!” she yelled.

“Why the _fuck_ would you? You could’ve _died!_ ”

“YOU are OUT of line, _deckhand_!” Emma exploded, taking a step forward and jabbing at his chest with a finger.

Killian wasn’t to be deterred. “I DON’T CARE!” he yelled back.

“ _What is your problem?!_ ” Emma shouted. “ _I just FUCKING saved your life, you ungrateful bastard!_ ”

“Well, you shouldn’t have!” Killian yelled, and turned away from her sharply.

Emma lost her patience completely. “WHY THE BLOODY HELL NOT?” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“BECAUSE YOU COULD’VE DIED! AND I WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN ABLE TO LIVE WITH MYSELF IF YOU HAD DIED BECAUSE OF MY CARELESSNESS! I CAN’T LET YOU DIE!”

She stared at him. He was panting hard, the confession obviously having taken a lot to get out. “I – _what_?” she breathed, astounded.

Killian turned around, his eyes full of pain and self-loathing. “You saved my life by taking over this ship. You befriended me. You are the first person in a very long time to even talk to me as if I am an actual person. I – I’ve grown to care about you, Swan. Deeply.” He closed his eyes, clearly avoiding her gaze.

“I – ” she said, trying to think of something to say. She settled on a sharp, “ _Killian_ ,” which made him look up. “I am not like Blackbeard. I do not permit my crew to get hurt, and like it or not, you are part of my crew.”

“You cannot convince me you jump after every poor sod who loses his footing in a bloody thunderstorm.” he said miserably.

Emma could only answer truthfully. “No.”

“Then _why_?” he said, agonized. “ _Why_ did you do it? _I’m not worth that!_ ”

“Shut up, just _shut up_!” she yelled, suddenly grabbing the lapels of his new, dry vest and pulling him down. “I’m the Captain, _deckhand_ , and you will _not_ question me.”

Then her lips crashed against his.

He was completely stunned by her sudden advances, and she used this to push him backwards, so that his knees hit the wood of her bed, and he had no choice to sit down. The kiss was hard, demanding, and it left little room for the soft explorations usually reserved for a first kiss. But Emma was _angry_. She had never been shown such disrespect, and had let that person get away with it. She wanted to _punish_ him for it.

In the back of her mind she knew she wasn’t exactly punishing him. She decided to push away that knowledge for the moment.

“ _Swan_.” he breathed when they broke apart for air. His lips were slightly swollen. That pleased her. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I _had_ assumed you weren’t _that_ thick.” she deadpanned, with a smirk.

That drew a small smile from him. “Well, I may be inexperienced, love, but I do know something.” His voice was low, and there was more confidence in his tone than he’d ever shown before. “But _what are we doing_?”

“I’m kissing you. You’re kissing me back. And right now, I have an urge to satisfy. If you want...” she whispered, pulling him close again. “You can help me.”

“Gods, _Swan_.” Killian groaned, surging forward in a show of confidence that surprised even her. His lips pressed hard against hers, just like their first kiss. Except now, he explored. He nibbled on her lower lip, let his tongue dip into her mouth, trying to figure out how to make her gasp.

Her head swam. Whether it was from lack of oxygen, or because this shy, stumbling deckhand was actually _really good_ at kissing, she didn’t know. She didn’t care much, either. All she cared about was getting them both naked. _Fast_. Her hands clawed at his clothing, ripping open the few buttons _actually buttoned_. He was just as greedy with her, his rough sailor’s hands pushing her leather coat from her shoulders and pressing down on her bare skin. His skin is still cold after their debacle, but hers is already burning hot with desire.

She’s so _hungry_ for him. She hasn’t been this turned on for a _very_ long time, and it should probably scare her – because what is it about this man? – but it doesn’t; she just wants him in her bed, naked, immediately.

“Clothes. Off. _Now_.” she orders.

“Aye-aye, Captain.” he teases, loosening the laces of his pants with haste. He had to actually stand up for a moment (she only begrudgingly let him; she loved seeing him sitting on her bed, half-naked), but the moment it was off, she was on him.

The fell into bed together, a tangle of limbs as their mouths explored each other’s bodies. He found a sensitive spot just below her ear that made her moan, and she elicited some _very_ pleasing groans from him by sucking on his nipple. She found more weak spots like that, and she enjoyed every single moan and gasp he gave her.

Soon, however, their exploring came at an end, and Emma began shedding the last of her clothing. He stared up at her as she straddled his hips and ripped open her leather corset, throwing it aside, making her breasts fully visible to his burning gaze. His hands moved from her hips up to the supple flesh and touched them, just with the tips of his fingers. She gasped, goose bumps erupting everywhere at once. His fingers were trembling slightly as they moved.

She looked down at him, and saw the uncertainty in eyes. The shyness was there, even as he explored her naked body with his eyes and hands. She reached to take his hands and placed them fully on her breasts. He needed her to guide his hands the first few squeezes, before he realized what she wanted.

In truth, things weren’t going _nearly_ as fast as she wanted.

When she started this, she wanted fast. Rough. _Dirty_. Of course, she should’ve known it wouldn’t go down that way. Bloody hell, he was probably still a _virgin_.

“Killian,” she moaned, rocking her hips against his, and he gasped, “Killian, I swear to the Gods, if you don’t start going _faster_...” He immediately got flustered again, and Emma rolled her eyes. “ _Fine_.” she said. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his in a hungry kiss, and began trailing her hands down his body, searching for his cock. The moment she touched him (half-hard, throbbing, it felt _delicious_ ), he gasped, his back arching and her name slipping past his lips in a delicious moan. She moaned, too, his flesh touching her wet slit when she moved her hips slightly. His hands grabbed her hips.

“Swan, are you _sure_...?”

“Shut up and fuck me, Jones.” she whispered hoarsely. “Or let me fuck you. Either way, I want you _bad_.”

She lifted up her hips, positioning him right at her entrance, and she looked at him, trying to see any hesitation, any sign that he did not want this. There was none. His blue eyes were almost black with hunger, his mouth slightly agape as breaths left him at top speed. Smirking, she sank down upon him.

They both groaned. Killian closed his eyes and Emma dropped her head to his chest. It had been _so long_. She wasn’t used to it anymore – the stretch, the fullness. She hadn’t been like this with anyone since – well, since _the_ _incident_. And now she paid for it, by having to sit there on top of him for a full two minutes before she was adjusted to the feeling. He was large. Larger than she had anticipated or imagined, and rock hard inside her. Once the burning, stretching feeling subsided slightly, she felt him there. Small fireworks exploded behind her eyelids.

“Oh Gods, Swan, please _move_.” Killian begged her, and that yanked her back to the here and the now, the position they were in, what she wanted to _do_. She began to rock her hips, slowly at first, experimenting a little. Her name tumbled out of his mouth in quick succession as she did so, and she couldn’t help but smirk. _She_ did this to him.

“Come on, Jones.” she hissed in his ear, biting the lobe, making him hiss with pleasure. “Work with me here.”

He rocked his hips, once, and Emma cried out when he hit a spot deep inside her. He stopped immediately, looking worried. She just moved up and down faster, letting him slip out to the tip before slamming down again. “Yes, Killian!” she cried, when he found her rhythm and thrust up into her. Growling, he reached up and pulled her down to him, crushing her lips with his, his fingers tangling in her hair, holding _tight_. “ _Fuck_.” she groaned, and he echoed the statement. Their movements were sloppy at best, him slipping out of her more than once, her leg sliding from under her, making her drop down unexpectedly – but it was _good_. _They_ were good. His cock seemed to grow inside her the closer he came, and she could feel she wasn’t far behind. She took his earlobe between her lips again, sucking it for the pleasure of hearing him moan. “Do you like that, Mr Jones? _Fucking_ your Captain?” He only moaned in response. “Have you been thinking about me like this, Mr Jones? Naked? Moaning your name? I bet you’ve jerked yourself off in your bunk at night, struggling to stay silent so the other boys won’t hear.” She jerked her hips sharply against him; he cried out. “You have, haven’t you?” He only nodded. “Mmmm,” she moaned, licking a stripe down the column of his throat, “Aren’t you just the dirtiest pirate?”

“Please, Emma...please, my Captain, my lady, _please_.”

She probably should’ve perked up at the use of _my lady_ , it probably should’ve worried her slightly, but it didn’t. She was too far gone to be drawn in by old memories and lives long forgotten. She moved her hips faster.  “Do you hear the sounds we make?” she whispered in his ear, and his head jerked – so did his hips. He was almost there. “Come for me, Killian.”

He cried out, his hands tightening further in her hair, and his pace faltered. Pulsing inside her, he came. The sensation of him shooting his release inside of her and the tingling on her scalp from his grip, was what undid her. With an almighty yell, she came, too. Her cunt milked him for all he was worth, and they came down together, moving slowly, in a daze.

“Bloody hell.” Killian said, in the end, when Emma rolled off him.

She laughed, a joyous, sated laugh. “You can say that again.” She rolled on her side and watched him for a while. His face was all lit up with awe and satisfaction, his eyes staring at the ceiling of her cabin. “Was that...” Emma hesitated slightly, but when he turned to her with that open expression of his, she continued. “Was that your first time?”

He rolled on his side, too, and propped his head up on his hand. “Aye.” he said, blushing slightly.

Emma bit her lip to contain a laugh. “I would love to know why a full grown man on a pirate ship has never bedded a woman.”

Killian rolled his eyes at her, feigning playfulness, but Emma knew he was hiding his true feelings. “Sorry, Swan. My tragic back story will have to wait for another time.” Emma was unnerved by how fast his mood had changed. Now his eyes were troubled, the blue a muddled pool this time, full of pain; she knew the look all too well.

So she pulled back a little, smiling. “Alright.” That earned her a weak smile in return, and she knew he wasn’t angry at her. She reached out to him, tracing her fingers lightly across his chest. They were silent for a while. The silence was not uncomfortable; her tracing his skin, him watching her do it. It was actually kind of...familiar.

“I’m glad my first time was with you, Swan.” he said, suddenly. He glanced away from her at that admission.

Emma barely hid a grin. “Well, I intend to not let it be just your first time, Jones.” she said, letting a light purr sneak into her voice. His eyes darkened, his pupils widened, his mouth dropped open a little.

“Really?” he said, slipping his arm around her waist. “I suppose I should never disappoint my Captain, shouldn’t I?”

“No, you shouldn’t – ” She was cut off abruptly when he surged forward, capturing her lips with his. It was full of hunger, full of open exploration, and Emma welcomed it. He pulled her towards him, rolling on top of her.

“Alright then, _Captain_.” he whispered hoarsely in her ear. “Let’s see how many times I can make you scream for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _Comments and kudos feed my muse, and she's a hungry lass! If you could take a moment, it'd make my day!_  
>  **

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos feed my muse, and she's a hungry lass! If you could take a moment, you would make my day!


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